


Bad Day

by emdaro



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, Lack of Communication, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:28:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emdaro/pseuds/emdaro
Summary: Race has a bad day, which turns into a good night. Featuring Spot as a huge dork who is bad with feelings.





	Bad Day

It had not been a good day in the life of Racetrack Higgins. It all started when he made his way to collect his papers. The Delanceys had been worse than usual, making smart remarks about Race.

“Higgins. Off to sell with your little boyfriend?” Oscar sneered, shoving Race’s papers into his chest.

“Least I got someone that wants me. How’s that right hand feel?” Race snapped back, bristling slightly. He was always defensive of Spot, even though he knew that the other boy could care less about what they had to say.

Oscar’s face turned from a sneer to an outright glare. “Rather have my right hand than some faggot.” He snapped.

Race drew his fist back and punched Oscar in the jaw. The guy went sprawling back and Race shook out his hand, ignoring the pain in his knuckles.

Morris stepped forward then, drawing his fist back to hit Race. Jack ran forward and shoved Morris away. “Hey, that ain’t very nice Morris.”

Morris rolled his eyes. “This your other boyfriend, Race? One not enough for you, little fairy? Thought you were dating that crip, Kelly? Are all you newsies queers?”

Jack grabbed Race as he lunged forward, dragging him out of the square before the Delanceys could say anything else. “Race, calm the hell down. They ain’t worth it.” His voice was tight though, it was evident he was itching to go back in there and fight.

Race shrugged Jack off, adjusting his bag on his shoulder. “Fine. I gotta get goin’.” He mumbled angrily, adjusting his hat.

Jack sighed. “Look, I’ll handle it. Just try and stay outta trouble, ya hear me?” He clapped Race on the shoulder, then went over to Crutchie to look over the paper.

Race stared at them for a moment. Jack stood behind Crutchie, his chin resting on Crutchie’s shoulder as Crutchie flipped through to see the stories. He turned and kissed Crutchie’s neck, making the shorter boy laugh. Race shook his head and made his way to Brooklyn, trying to get rid of the sinking feeling in his stomach. He settled into his selling spot once he got to Brooklyn, chatting with his regulars as though nothing was wrong. He had hope the day could still turn around. Spot had promised to stop by once he was done selling and he always knew just what to say- or do, as it usually involved a lot of making out- to take Race’s mind off things. Hours passed and Spot didn’t show. Race held out hope though. Maybe Spot was just running late. It happened to everyone, it was no big deal. He’d get there. He had told Race he’d be there.

Race sold his last paper and checked the time. It was past six, Spot would have been done hours before. He scoffed and began the walk back to Manhattan. It was typical. Spot had been trying to be better, they had gotten into a big fight a few weeks before about Race always being the one to put in the effort. But it wasn’t as though things had changed overnight. Spot still had trouble showing him affection. Some days he barely touched Race. Some days he outright ignored Race. It wore him down sometimes, especially on days when he already felt crummy. He climbed into bed once he arrived back at the lodging house, ignoring the card game going on. He wasn’t in the mood to talk or watch Crutchie and Jack be all lovey with each other. He’d die before admitting it, but that was what he wanted. The love Crutchie and Jack had, it was as easy to see as anything. He felt that way for Spot, that complete love and respect. He wasn’t always sure Spot felt the same way though. There were times Race thought he could pack up and leave New York, go to that Santa Fe place Jack was always going on about or somewhere, and Spot wouldn’t even notice. He had tried to fall asleep when he got under the blankets, but as he heard the other boys fall asleep one by one he accepted it wasn’t happening. He turned and stared out the window blankly, imagining what Spot was doing. Maybe he was with some other guy. Maybe asleep, unaware that Race was-

That line of thought was cut off when the moonlight was suddenly blotted out by a figure in the window. Race blinked and sat up, getting to his feet and walking over. It was Spot, perched on the windowsill like it was a completely normal thing to do. Race pulled the window open and Spot climbed inside. He hardly had time to shut it before Spot’s arms were around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He stumbled back, stiff for a moment before wrapping his arms around Spot’s shoulders. They stayed that way for a few moments, silent. Race was utterly confused, he had no idea what to say. It wasn’t like Spot to show up unannounced, Race was pretty sure he could count the number of times that Spot had even visited him in Manhattan on one hand.

Spot finally pulled away after a few moments, curling their fingers together and leading Race back to his bed. Race stopped then, the shock fading and being replaced by anger. “Spot, wait. What the hell are you doin’ here?”

Spot shrugged. “Can’t I come visit my boyfriend?”

Race rolled his eyes. “Course you can, you know I’d love if you did. But that’s the thing. You never do. Hell, you even stood me up today.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “You don’t just get to come in and hug me and pretend that it’s okay.”

Spot sighed. “I know I didn’t come see you. I’s sorry about that, I really am. I got caught up with somethin’, some kid from Queens was tryin’ to start trouble with one of my boys.”

Race relaxed slightly. That was a good excuse at least, he knew how protective Spot was of his newsies. But there was still the fact that Spot was there, in the lodging house, in the middle of the night. “Okay, fine. What are you doin’ here now?”

Spot avoided Race’s eyes. Was he…blushing? “I had a nightmare about you and I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Warmth flooded Race’s body, he was pretty sure his cheeks were on fire. He stepped slightly closer to Spot. “You came all the way to Manhattan to see if I was okay just because of a dream?”

Spot shrugged. “Shut it, Higgins.”

“Make me, Conlon.” Race retorted, a smile spreading onto his face for the first time since he woke up. He took Spot’s hand and tugged him onto the bed, resting his head against Spot’s chest as they settled in. “I’m glad you’re here. I…I didn’t have the best day.”

Spot curled one arm around Race’s shoulders, running his fingers through Race’s hair. “What happened?” He asked, his lips brushing Race’s forehead.

Race shrugged. “Just wasn’t feeling well. The Delanceys, they was givin’ us some trouble but it’s fine. Just stuff about me and…ya know.”

Spot’s arm tightened around Race, slightly. “Jack oughta teach those guys a lesson.”

“He has. Just doesn’t stick I guess, I think they’s too stupid to get it.” Race replied, tilting his head up to stare at Spot.

Spot chuckled softly. “Maybe I should come over and do it, they’d have to be brain dead to forget.” He sighed and looked down at Race. “Anything else happen or just those two bein’ assholes?”

Race shrugged. He wasn’t sure he should share how he’d been feeling with Spot, it might make him angry. “I dunno…just wasn’t feelin’ too great.” He looked down. “Spot, do you love me?” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them. They hung in the air, the tension thick.

Spot’s hand in Race’s hair stilled. He pulled away slightly. “Where’s this comin’ from?”

“I…I’s just real confused, alright? Because some days you’s real sweet, like you bein’ now. You kiss me and do these nice things and hold me. But other times…I gotta force ya to even hold my hand and you act all annoyed. It hurts me and I love ya a lot but I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” He froze as he realized he had just told Spot he loved him. He had known for a while, months, but never vocalized it. He sat up, bringing his knees to his chest and hiding his face. He felt the mattress shift beside him. So Spot was leaving then. It made sense. He didn’t love Race like that, there was no way. He felt arms wrap around him, pulling his form closer.

“Race, look at me.” Race didn’t move. “Anthony.” The use of his real name was enough to get him to move his head. He looked up at Spot, surprised when he felt a gentle hand on his cheek.

“Spot…?” Race said tentatively, staring into his eyes. Spot’s expression was unreadable.

“Of course I love you. I…I never thought I’d love someone and I sure as hell didn’t expect to have someone love me. But it happened. I love you and I’m gonna do my best to show you that.” Spot’s voice was soft, softer than Race had ever heard it.

Race just nodded. He leaned back into Spot, the two of them falling back down onto the mattress with their lips pressed together. It was going to be okay, they were okay. Race was more than okay. They had their problems, but hearing that Spot loved him made Race think they could get through it. It would just take time and patience, two things Race was more than willing to give. He had a feeling Spot felt the same way. The stupid boy had come all the way from Brooklyn just to check on Race just because of a nightmare, after all. It was with that thought on his mind that Race finally fell asleep, Spot’s arms warm around him.

 


End file.
